Solemn Remembrance
by Burning Snow
Summary: Sirius thinks back to a time when he and Remus were not truly as strong as they'd thought. James asks Sirius for a favor, and Sirius complies--when they are caught by Remus. Slash, violence, sex.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

This is mature SLASH Sirius/Remus. Sirius POV.

I'm baaaack! This is my first fic in a while. What can I say? Inspiration struck!

Enjoy, and please review!

* * *

What harm could one kiss do?

I made my decision and leaned into the kiss that was being presented to me. It certainly didn't count—it was a friend kiss. I was simply a teacher in this; James was completely straight. He was crazy about Lily, and he would never throw that away to be seen around school snogging with his best guy friend, the notorious flamer: Sirius Black.

But as he put it, he hadn't had much experience kissing (he and Lily were are the 'holding hands' stage still, sucks for him) and he was curious to see what Remus and I were always going on about. What kind of friend would I be if I weren't to help him in his quest for a better understanding of our lifestyle?

No one would see us. It was nearing the Christmas holiday, and everyone was out at Hogsmeade buying last-minute presents—including Remus.

Besides, Remus would never have to know. It's not like_ I_ was the one gaining anything here—like I ever really wanted to kiss James Potter. Hah. Remus was the love of my life, and way hotter…plus he had a much bigger—

Tongue. James immediately started with an attempt to tongue me to death.

I pushed him away. "Not like that, you git," I reprimanded. "You'll make little Miss Evans bloody run for her life if you attack her like that!"

He blushed, seeming ashamed. "Er…ok.." he mumbled.

"You start with you lips pursed," I began, and he started making fish lips. "You're not a bloody goldfish!" I almost yelled. How could someone as suave as James Potter not know the basic concept of a kiss?

I sighed. "Purse your lips softly, leaving a little space between them. Yes, exactly like that. Now, just follow my lead…"

And with that, I pressed my mouth against his. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend it was Remus, but my lover had never needed this much coaching. We stayed like that a minute. I was doing it halfway on purpose, letting James try to get a grip of himself. Then, slowly, I began to move my lips. My pause hadn't worked. He attempted to go nuts with mouth movement, but after a half pull away from me he settled down into my rhythm.

I allowed my lips to roam freely over his, lightly sucking on his bottom lip and making him let out a short moan. Then I unleashed my tongue into his mouth, softly stroking his own. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy that.

Feeling his desire for more, I decided to show him exactly why Remus and I could hardly keep ourselves apart. No sense in all this unless I made him just a dash jealous. Besides, maybe he could use this technique to get his first lay with Lily.

I kicked it up a couple notches, quickening the pace and raping his mouth with my tongue. He hardly knew how to respond except to grab my long hair and pull me, if possible, closer. When this failed, he proceeded to shove me down on the four-poster bed and rub his crotch against mine.

Talk about your repressed sexual desires. This was going much, much further than I had intended. I tried to stop him, but for his scrawny figure, James was immensely strong. This was bad. Very, very bad. If I didn't put a stop to it soon—holy crap! He was reaching under my robes!

At the precise moment I mustered all my strength to get him the hell off me, my sweetheart strode into the room.

...

He didn't say anything—not for a long time. He just stared as we hastily disentangled ourselves, James going beet red and spitting out apologies like a string of curses one would utter after stubbing a toe, me unable to do anything but gaze at Remus' beautiful face, behind which I could see the wheels turning and the hurt beginning to descend like a shroud.

James was still going on like an idiot. I tore my eyes away from Remus to stare at him incredulously. With an emotionless tone, Remus softly but sternly told him, "Get out."

Remus had a certain way with people. He didn't have to be nasty or loud to get them to do exactly as he wished. James threw me an apologetic look and fled from the room.

We were alone. I didn't dare attempt to explain. There was no explanation. Yes, it was James' fault that it had gone so far. It was James' fault for asking. But I had agreed. And after witnessing what he did, Remus would never believe that I was just giving Potter some kissing tips.

After what seemed like an eternity, Remus spoke. "I hope you realize how much effort I'm putting in to containing myself," he murmured tensely.

"I do," I replied, glancing up at him and then allowing my eyes to settle back on the floor. "Remus…" I began. "…I'm not going to offer any explanation unless you want the truth, which isn't what you think. I swear it. But instead of getting into an argument about whether or not you believe me, I would prefer to tell you that I've made a terrible mistake, and I'm sorry. It's you that I love, and only you."

As I spoke, he clenched his fists at his sides. That wasn't good. I tensed, ready to transform if the need arose. The full moon was fast approaching, only a day or two away, and Remus needed to keep as calm as possible in these times so as not to transform early.

And suddenly, there is was. A mournful howl filled the air; claws met flesh. Half of his other side was upon me. This wasn't quite as dangerous as his full form, but he had taken me completely by surprise, and I lost the concentration necessary for my own transformation. I scrambled out of his way as fast as I could, but he loped at me again, fangs flashing a brilliant white.

"Remus!" I cried, diving for cover under the four-poster and willing the change to happen.

Nothing.

The creature snarled and sprang atop the bed. He angrily dug at the mattress.

I searched deep in my soul for the animal in me. I tried to block out the growling and ripping of cloth, tried to ignore the pulsing pain in my shoulder where his claws had found their target, tried to ignore the blood—my blood—soaking through my robes. Finally, I felt the fur creep through my pores, my teeth begin to sharpen and elongate—

The bed was flipped over with a crash. He set upon me, claws and teeth tearing at my skin.

All concentration was lost. For a moment the pain dulled, and I thought of dying here at the hands of my lover. That wouldn't be too bad for me—but for Remus…

Something clicked inside me, and exploded in the form of fur and fangs. My teeth sank into his neck, and I pounced as he grunted in pain. My four-legged form was stronger than my human one. Bleeding though I was, I was able to spar with him. I put up quite a good fight. I forced him into a corner of the room, attempting to communicate who I was. It was impossible; his eyes saw only a red haze.

I backed off a little and whined, expressing that I didn't want to fight anymore. For a moment, it seemed to work. I wagged my tail to indicate friendship. In response, he lunged.

...

I awoke in the hospital wing three days later to a nurse who was bewitched to think that my injuries were the effect of crashing my broom into the Whomping Willow. As if I would ever do something so stupid.

Dumbledore came to visit me and ask a few questions. I left out some parts, but somehow I think he knew them anyway. He told me I was fortunate that most students had been gone, and that James had had enough sense to inform him of Remus' condition immediately.

James came to visit too, more hesitantly than Dumbledore. He blamed himself for everything, of course. I would have unleashed more fury if I hadn't seen his face. He looked so sorry that he couldn't express it in words. I couldn't hold it against him—he was my best friend.

And as for Remus…he had run off. No one had seen or heard from him after Dumbledore eased him back into his human state. However, the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye told me exactly where I might find him.

...

Choosing to avoid the Willow, I used the Map to guide me to Hogsmeade, and from there made my way to the Shrieking Shack.

I found my love curled in a corner of the small room. It only seemed so tiny because we had fashioned a large mattress in the center. This mattress served two purposes: for Remus to stay comfortable on his transformation nights, and for us to make love as loudly as we wanted on nights other than those.

Remus was wallowing in his misery on the cold, dirty wooden floor—precisely the thing I had never wanted to see him do again.

He hadn't even noticed me enter the room. Silently, I went to him, knelt, and placed my hand on his shoulder. "Remus," I whispered.

He didn't stir, but I could see a glistening tear fall down his cheek.

"Remus, it's me."

Like I really needed to tell him. He knew every tenor of my voice, every pressure of my touch.

Still no response. I wrapped my arm around him and laid down, holding him as close as I could.

"I'm sorry," I breathed.

After a duration of about twenty minutes, the walls crumbled. He threw himself over at me, grasping at my arms like they were his anchors to life. "What the hell are you sorry for?" he shouted. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one that…that…"

He allowed his eyes to rove my body. Despite being bundled up to shield from the cold, the bandages from my wounds were visible.

He howled, not a creature's howl but a human's anguish, and began to sob in my arms.

"How could I ever have done this to you?" he cried. "No matter what you did, no matter what the reason—how could someone I love deserve something so terrible?"

Nothing I said could console him. When I finally explained the circumstances surrounding what had happened, he only seemed to cry harder—not because I had betrayed him, but because he had been so foolish.

Eventually, he cried himself into a deep sleep. Despite my wounds, I carefully arose, lifted him up, and carried him to the mattress. I took off his sweaty, bloody three-day-old clothes, relishing in the beauty that was his body. I kissed the drying tears from his eyes, undressed myself, and slid under the blanket with him.

There is no feeling in the world as good as lying naked with the person you truly love. Holding him close, I drifted into sleep.

...

I awoke the next morning to Remus' eyes studying me. His vision trailed over every bruise and bandaged gash that the nurse was unable to heal. Even at half his other form, the poison from his fangs was too strong to be healed immediately.

Seeing that I was awake, he drew the blanket downward, uncovering my body. Totally ignoring my usual morning surprise (unheard of) he regarded my injuries, wincing every time.

"Remus, it's alright," I said.

"How can you love me when I can't love myself?" he replied.

I didn't really have an answer for him. Standards would say that if you just got mauled by your boyfriend, you should run away—fast—and never look back.

I wasn't one for standards.

Since I failed to express myself in words, I leaned over and kissed him. He seemed reluctant at first, as if I shouldn't grace the likes of him with my lips. But I probed until I got a reaction.

He practically melted into me. As we kissed, I started to taste his salty tears.

...

Many people say that sex fixes everything. I don't believe that to be true. Love, hard work, and dedication fix everything. Sex just makes the walls tumble down and puts it all out there to be had.

Our kisses became intense and passionate. My tongue explored its old territory as if it were the first time. He entwined his fingers in my hair; I climbed on top of him. My wounds pulsed with pain a bit, but I hardly felt it. Too much blood was rushing elsewhere at the moment.

He ran his fingers over the length of my back and swung his legs up around my hips. He was blissfully hard. His erection rubbed against mine—oh, he drove me wild.

He broke away from the kiss and exposed his neck to me. Taking the hint, I dove in, making him moan with each touch of my tongue and teeth. I stopped my progression where his neck met his shoulder and began to suck in exactly the spot he loved.

He bucked up against me, eager for me to pay attention to his penis. I smirked against his neck and continued exactly what I was doing, much to his disappointment.

He growled in half displeasure and attempted to wriggle on top of me. Not happening.

I pinned his wrists above his head and nibbled on his earlobe. He shuddered with pleasure. Once again, I made my way to his lips. He forced his head up to capture my mouth in what must have been the hottest kiss in Hogwarts history.

It was a moment before I realized what he had done. He dazed me for just long enough to flip us over and move into quite a becoming position.

"Remu—" I was cut off when he made me gasp. He had taken the whole of me into his mouth. I looked down incredulously. He looked up at me—that was so sexy—and simply proceeded to move his hot, wet mouth up and down my shaft.

He had never done this before. He had a strong distaste for it, and never went beyond playfully licking or sucking the tip. Until now. And—

"Oh, Remus," I cried out, and whimpered like a desperate puppy. I was so close I could almost feel the rush. Usually I lasted much longer, but this—he was exceptional.

Sensing I was almost there, he paused, allowing me to either stop him or have him finish me. I chose the first—despite my clouded head, I saw it would be unfair to leave him out.

But before I could indicate a switching of position, he lifted my legs above my head and rubbed his erection on the entrance to my anus.

I suddenly wanted it. The times when I accepted him into me were very few and far between—he had a distaste for the dominant position. I guess this morning was to be all about me.

"Yes," I breathed, and very slowly, he entered me.

I saw stars. He waited for me to adjust, and then he began to move. His thrusts were in perfect rhythm with his hand on my cock. I cried out over and over, so loudly that I truly made the Shrieking Shack live up to its name.

I finished rather quickly…and loudly. There is something about anal sex that makes the orgasm so much more intense. Afterward I just lay there, taking it all in.

Remus wasn't far behind. With one final thrust he came inside me and, breathing heavily, collapsed next to me.

"Sirius, I love you more than anything," he said in between breaths, and drew me closer to him.

That was all. He and I both shared the understanding that we would never speak of this again. We were too in love, and had too little time to waste it feeling awkward and sorry for misdeeds.

...

After all these years in Azkaban, this memory has not been taken from me, because it's not quite a happy memory. It's more of a solemn remembrance. I refuse to let it go. I hope, through everything, that Remus remembers it with me, and I pray that for years to come that I'll still be able to smile when I come to the conclusion of it.

-End-


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